


Forever Kind Of Thing

by Shaz_27



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: BDSM, Christmas, Dom Dean, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, I can't believe I made John and Nikki into a married couple, I don't know why but I turned Naomi into Roman's sister in this fic, Kid Fic, Lord forgive me I used the sub Roman tag, M/M, Oh they have children, Rimming, Smut, Sorry john, Sub Roman, also Renee has a big mouth (but it also kinda saves the day), ambreigns - Freeform, he aint no sub irl, i guess that's it?, married, so much christmas fluff, that is Deano, very light but still there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:26:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5448194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaz_27/pseuds/Shaz_27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Dolph’s wedding, officially leaving Dean and Roman to be the only unmarried (and single) friends in their group. Naturally, this puts Dean into a crisis. (ft. declaration of love in the men's restroom, hiding out in the women’s restroom, and plenty of sappy songs with hidden meanings to help the night pass.)</p>
<p>And then a look at their lives, seven years later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever Kind Of Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [minusmelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minusmelle/gifts).



> This is somewhere between AU and Non AU. Dolph is pretty much one of them here. Oh, and Naomi is Roman's sister, for some reason. 
> 
> Quick shoutout to Pinterest for the inspiration (so sorry for the insults). 
> 
> Ah Melle, I was simultaneously glad and stressed when I saw that I got you simply because I absolutely adore your work and for the same reason, did not want to write anything below par for you. 
> 
> I've tried each of your prompts a million and one times because they were all so simple yet fun and wicked easy to write for but of course I gotta stay true to the friends-to-lovers trope (aka the best of them all). Then I wrote about three different versions of that prompt and ended up with this because wedding fics are my jam (I've never actually written one but reading them is my jam) and I thought hey why not combine that with some BFF action + lovey dovey Christmas action.
> 
> So before I embarrass myself even more, I hope that you enjoy this! And have I mentioned how much I adore you? Because I do!
> 
> (Which just reminds me, I didn't put an actual 'I do' part in the wedding. Ha I'm clearly not cut out for weddings.)

Dolph’s staring outside through the window of the room watching the guests arrive. It’s incredible that all their friends and families made it and it just makes the day so much more special. Although it’s comforting to have these familiar faces here, it also freaks him out. The venue looks great, the people look beautiful, and it’s a glorious day. It all looks better than he’d hoped and it’s all thanks to the two other men in the room, who are busy fixing themselves up as they simultaneously mess with each other. 

“I’m going to puke.” Dolph suddenly says as he turns his head away from the window. He decided this isn’t going to help his case of coldfeet. 

“Heeeey, be nice. You’re marrying my sister.” Roman slaps his shoulder.

Dolph glares over at Roman in the reflection of the mirror as Dean straightens his bowtie with a small shake of his head.

“No time for jokes, Roman. Can’t you see our boy is nervous?” Dean runs his thumbs over the silky blue colored tie before stepping back with a beaming smile. “I have to say, dude, I’m a bit upset that you’re just now incorporating pink into your look. It’s quite fitting on you.”

Dolph’s eye twitches as if he’s about to spit out an insult, but his whole face seems to melt into a smile and he huffs out a short chuckle. So, he’s getting married. Dolph Ziggler, Mr. ‘who-needs-that-lovey-dovey-crap’ is actually settling down – with Roman’s sister, to be exact. Dean figures it’ll only be a day or two when he sees a pig fly.

“He’s growing up,” Roman sighs, getting up from the hotel loveseat (the sign of a quality hotel, if you ask Roman) and snakes his arm around Dean’s shoulder to pull him into his side. “I say we’ve raised him pretty well.”

Dean nods in agreement and rests his head against Roman’s shoulder, inhaling his scent of bergamot and musk and something comforting that he hasn’t been able to pin down just yet. “Then again, he’s marrying one of you…”

“Oi! You wound me!” Roman retreats his arm and sticks his tongue out at Dean. “Now if you boys will excuse me, I’ve got some man-of-honor duties to fulfil,” he says, grabbing his bow tie hanging on the edge of the loveseat and giving Dolph one last once-over. “You look great. See you when you’re my brother.”

“In-law,” Dolph corrects, clearly still able to be Dolph despite the ghostly pale look on his face. He lets out a shaky breath and gives Roman a half-smile, pulling him in for a quick hug (which Dean is quick to separate because he just straightened up his tie, okay). “Thanks for the help, man. See you.”

Roman nods and smacks the back of Dolph’s head, grinning with satisfaction at the roll of eyes he gets in return. He then turns to face Dean and cocks his head.

“As for you, mister,” Roman starts off in that concerned-father voice, draping his bow tie around his neck lazily and narrowing his frog eyes in on Dean. “Don’t even think about getting a slurpee before the wedding.”

“That was –”

“You were late to Seth and Randy’s wedding and John and Nicki’s wedding. Do not make this a tradition, Ambrose,” Roman orders, pointing a stern finger dangerously close to Dean’s mouth, so naturally – “Ow! You can’t just keep biting me whenever I –”

“Don’t forget Finn’s wedding,” Dean adds with a smug look on his face, nodding over at the door and patting Roman’s cheek.” Now go and help your sister look all bridal.”

Roman rolls his eyes and reaches over to idly fuss with a stray hair hanging over Dolph’s forehead. “I told you – she’s got her bridesmaids for that. She doesn’t want me near her when she’s getting ready ever since –”

“You left the straightener on her hair too long and nearly burnt it to a crisp.” Dean finishes with ease, getting on his knees to shine a scuff on Dolph’s shoes. “Honestly, Ro, I don’t know how a person with such hair can be so inadequate with a straightener.”

“It’s ‘cause he doesn’t ever need to use one. Duh,” Dolph chimes in, regaining some color in his face. Dean couldn’t be more proud. “I’m the straightener guy if you ever have any questions.”

“Yeah, duh,” Roman scoffs playfully, stepping back and giving the two a fond nod. “Alright then, boys, I’ll see you at the chapel. No slurpees. You will not make the groom late to his own wedding.”

“No promises,” Dean says as he stands up, laying a light smack on Roman’s ass. “Give Naomi a hug for me. But don’t you dare ruin her hair or makeup or her dress. That would be a catastrophe.”

“No promises,” Roman mimics in a much higher tone than necessary, and then leans over to whisper. “You look quite fit in blue by the way,” he adds with a smirk before heading out of the hotel suite to venture over to Naomi’s.

Dean doesn’t even realize he’s staring at Roman’s back until Dolph clears his throat raising his eyebrows and hands his cufflinks over to Dean.

“Right,” Dean huffs with a tight smile, holding Dolph’s arm out as he pushes them in. “Y’know, groomsmen can help in this process, too.”

Dolph shrugs and holds out his other arm for Dean. “John’s helping set up the stage down at the reception hall, Seth and Randy are getting some sparklers, and –”

“Wait, what? Sparklers?”, Dean asks, bewildered. 

“Yeah. Naomi saw this thing on Pinterest where –”

“Stop there,” Dean huffs, pushing in the other cufflink. If he hears one more thing about Pinterest, he might actually puke. He’s spent one too many nights helping Roman pick out irrelevant little details for boards that are nonsensical for where they’re at right now. Recently, it’s been all about barbeque dinner parties in big backyards. It’s quite hard living with Roman, who at times is pretty much like a middle-aged parent.

Dolph laughs, as Dean does some last-minute straightening up, cocking his head a bit. “What’s with you two, anyways?”

Dean doesn’t freeze up or go red – he just seems to slow down a bit as if to process it. It’s definitely not the first time someone’s insinuated that there’s something, let alone someone in their friend group. It’s still just so odd to hear and think about because – like, they’re best friends; always have been, ever since they first met in Developmental and then saw each other next day. It was always just this sure thing that they were made to be friends and it’s so clear and obvious for anyone else to see. But when they think there’s more – he just wonders.

Dean purses his lips and shrugs. “Don’t know. What’s with you and Seth?”

“Deano, you know what I mean.” Dolph sternly says, as his attention is focused on Dean’s reflection in the mirror.

Dean shrugs and steps back to do his own bowtie in the mirror. “We’re best friends. Just like yesterday and the day before that and the years before that and just like it’ll always be. I thought we dropped this whole thing months ago?”

It’s Dolph’s turn to shrug, giving Dean a thoughtful look. “Naomi and I were best friends. Seth and Randy were best friends. What makes you and Roman so special, hm?”

“We’re actual best friends. That’s it, always,” Dean says with a smug smile, bumping his hip with Dolph’s and fixing up his outfit a bit. “Now c’mon. You’ve got a girl to marry.”

He leads the way out and goes to the elevators on the opposite side of the hallway in case Naomi walks out, but he can’t seem to shake the weird tug he feels in his stomach or his lungs or his heart.

What makes him and Roman so special?

 

xxxx

 

Dean gets a slurpee, of course, much to Dolph’s hesitance. He convinces him by getting him a beer to take the edge off and promising not to tell anyone. He’s truly a great friend.

For once, they aren’t late to the wedding, either – probably having to do with Dolph shouting at him to drive faster the entire ride there.

Dean tosses the two empty cups into the trash outside the chapel after Dolph has already dashed in and done some last-minute arrangements for his sparklers, which Dean thinks is still a bit preposterous.

“I knew it,” he hears a voice huff from behind. The same huff he’d heard when he’d ‘accidentally’ bought Ocean’s Twelve instead of Ocean’s Eleven (“Dean, they’re two entirely different movies” “They both have the same actors! The only difference is that I haven’t seen one of them a thousand times, thanks to you” “Uh, no. The other difference is that one is utter shit, and the other is not. Well, movie night is ruined thanks to you” “Oh, shush and look behind the bag of chips. Of course I bought it, you dolt”).

“I would’ve got one for you, but I know how squeamish you get with slurpees,” Dean hums with a coy grin, leading the way to a back entrance of the church where the groomsmen and bridesmaids are supposed to meet.

“Not fair. You forced me to finish your large slurpee and made me get on the teacups right after. It’s not my fault I threw up, you wanker,” Roman whines with a hint of laughter because, as much as he hates to admit it, it’s one of his favorite stories to tell. “I got your new jacket all stained and gross and you wouldn’t stop grumbling at the ground – all hurt and broody looking,” he manages to blurt out through his full-on laughter.

“I’m so glad me being upset is so funny to you, Roman, cheers,” Dean says, though there’s a grin on his face too because, okay, it’s one of his favorite stories too. “Then I didn’t talk to you for the rest of the day until you –”

“Pardon, but I believe that the bridesmaids go over there, dearie,” Seth says politely, patting Roman’s shoulder and biting back a shit-eating grin (it’s written all over his face, though).

“Man-of-honor, thank you very much,” Roman corrects, giving Seth a playful glare and nods over at Dean. “See you up there, Deano. Pull one funny face at me and no breakfast for an entire month.”

“Are you trying to break my heart? Go be one with the ladies.” Dean gives Roman a light push and smirks at his little stumble. Such a child, that man is. He goes over to join the groomsmen, where Seth is waiting with a raised eyebrow and pointed look. “What?”

“You know what,” he says simply, winking and turning around to return to his conversation with John.

The bad part is that Dean knows exactly what.

 

xxxx

 

The wedding starts off smoothly, not a single bump or hitch to be noted.

Since it’s already evening, the chandeliers are set on high to illuminate the entire cream-colored chapel, bouncing off and reflecting against the blue colored carnations by the alter to make everything and everyone glow this bluey, milky color. It’s quite breathtaking, to say the least, how everything seems to have a blush to it.

And of course, there’s Naomi, who looks even more beautiful and graceful than usual. She’s walking down so eloquently with her dad in arm, but all Dean can really bring himself to focus on is the way Dolph’s looking at her with possibly the softest and happiest look he’s ever seen on him, let alone anyone. And, okay, Dean was never one to fantasize about weddings or dream about what his own would be like, considering he tends to distance himself from anything close to being mushy gushy, but. He’s going to be gutted if he doesn’t get a moment like this in his life – a moment where someone’s looking at him like Dolph’s looking at Naomi and where everyone and everything seems to be radiating love and happiness and like the entire world is moving just for them. 

Don’t get him wrong, though. He’s not mushy gushy at all.

He somewhat tunes out for the initial ceremony (which – hah, what a great best man he is), half-heartedly listening to the priest drawl on about something he’s sure Dolph and Naomi are secretly eye-rolling about. He looks a little bit past Naomi to look over at Roman sticking out like a sore thumb because, well, he’s not a woman in a blue colored dress. He’s a man standing a few inches taller than the rest of the girls and wearing blue suspenders and a bowtie. Definitely not a dress. Yet he still manages to fit in quite well – looking soft and delicate and Dean wouldn’t be surprised if he worked as good as the other ladies.

He doesn’t realize he’s full-on staring until Roman pulls a sly funny face at Dean, to which Dean has to close his eyes and press his lips into a tight line to avoid reacting to.

Such a wanker, he thinks, opening his eyes and nearly guffawing at the subtly hurt expression on Roman’s face. Surely he can read minds now.

They continue a somewhat facial banter until it’s time for vows, to which Dean is quick to snap back to attention.

“So – hi,” Dolph starts off with a sheepish grin, looking down at where his note card is shaking in his hand. “I’ve written this and scrapped it so many times, it probably doesn’t even make sense anymore, so bear with me,” Dolph says, clearing his throat and shifting his weight on his feet a bit. “Naomi. I can’t believe we’ve actually made it this far – mostly because I can’t believe you stuck along the entire time. You’ve been the best friend I could ask for. I mean – don’t get me wrong, I love my boys,” he saves quickly, shuddering out a nervous laugh when the audience laughs. “I really – they’re my boys. My lads. I don’t know where I’d be without them. They –“

Dean politely clears his throat and gives a pursed smile, barring some teeth as he lets out a little laugh hoping Dolph would understand this is his signal to stop rambling about them and to just talk about Naomi.

“Right – you’re my best friend. Really. I’ve never met anyone who’ll go get burritos with me at 4 am or listen to me play Mötley Crüe songs all day or just love me like you do. When I first met you at Roman’s birthday party, I just knew you would change my life one way or another.”

Now, Dean does not easily tear up. He doesn’t easily get all emotional and feelsy, nor does he ever get that urge to just squeeze a pillow. But there’s Dolph reciting his vows and then there’s Roman staring directly at Dean with the frog-eyed stare and a coy smile and Dean feels such an impending tug on his heart, he thinks it might just plop right out.

Roman’s attention returns to Dolph and Naomi after Dean catches him, but he’s got that same secretive smile and Dean really isn’t sure what’s going on.

“So, Naomi, I promise to love you like no one else. I promise to not freak out over what color you dye your hair. I promise to binge watch any dramatic show you force me to watch. I promise to rewatch Clueless with you however many times you want, even though I’ve got it down to the tee. Well, it seems to me that the best relationships - the ones that last - are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship. You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before. And that’s how it was for me when it came to you. Like a switch has been flicked somewhere. And the person who was just a friend is... suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with and –”

Dean has to tune out the rest of it on account of him rethinking his entire life. Because those last few lines made Dean realise the things he’s been trying to avoid.

Okay – so he may have some feelings for his best friend. That’s completely fine. It happens. Except it doesn’t just happen like this. He can’t just listen to a little bit of a sappy speech and realize his everlasting love for his best mate of ten years, right? That’s impractical. This had to have been a gradual sort of thing and – fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. Has he unknowingly been falling for his best friend this entire time? Were those sharp tugs of endearment a secret way of his insides telling him this is it? How unfortunate. How humiliating. Dean could scream his lungs out if it weren’t for, y’know, the wedding in progress.

Then Naomi’s beginning to recite her vows and Dean thinks maybe he’s sort of got things cleared up and he’s okay – until Roman holds Dean’s gaze enough to nod slightly with an assured look on his face. Dean is so screwed.

As the ceremony ends, the serene nature immediately goes to dust as everyone excitedly files out and grabs a sparkler. Roman hands Dean a sparkler as they make their way out along the steps, as if they hadn’t just shared the moment of moments. They’re okay. They’re normal. They’re best friends.

Dean wills himself to push those thoughts away long enough to light his sparkler in group lighting (if that’s even a thing) and inch back against the staircase as Dolph and Naomi walk out hand and hand. He’s able to push everything aside and just smile dumbly to himself because Dolph’s married now and there’s cheering and sparks literally flying and he can smell a little bit of bergamot and spice and something, so he’s more than okay now.

 

xxxx 

 

The reception is held at some pricey reception hall they’ve rented for the night and transformed into some kind of fairy light wonderland. Fucking Pinterest.

Their first dance is to a Michael Bublé cover of Put Your Head On My Shoulder, undoubtedly Dolph’s influence entirely. They’ve even fiddled with the lighting to make the entire room pink with a romantic glow, somehow making the entire hall seem bigger than usual. Dolph and Naomi are swaying co-ordinately in the middle and he’s surely not tearing up – he’s just got a bit of dust in his eye.

Roman, on the other hand, is full on teary-eyed smiling, and Dean has to do his best not to hug the man then and there. They’re at a wedding, for Christ’s sake. Not everything can be a cuddle opportunity.

Dean will admit, this is all just so beautiful. Nikki and John’s wedding had a cool, indie vibe to it and Seth and Randy’s wedding was so sultry and chill. This, though, is just so utterly romantic and light and he feel like everyone and everything is just radiating love, and it’s truthfully a bit magical.

 

When it comes times for the speeches, Dean manages to fuck up in the first few seconds by dropping and shattering his glass.

“Oh, jeez,” he mutters, smiling a bit that he at least could make the crowd laugh. Roman hands him his glass after giggling into the back of his hand, giving him a nod and snorting a bit at the champagne on his pants.

“Now that we’re all settled – Dolph, I never thought I’d see the day when you’ve settled down once and for all,” Dean huffs with a bit of a chortle, prompting a little more laughter from the crowd. “But now that you’re married, I can’t imagine you without Naomi. There’s a saying that’s like – if you want true happiness, settle with an Anoa’i. Or something like that. Frankly, I don’t get it, but…”

There’s more laughing – mostly on the Anoa’i family part – and Dean’s sure he can feel Roman’s own grin burning up at him.

“Dolph used to always complain about how annoying lovey dovey couples were – which I reckon is all thanks to Seth and Randy for being the epitome of sap – and how I should beat him up if he ever fell head over heels for some girl and started acting all sappy, so,” Dean leans down and wraps an arm around Dolph’s neck to stage whisper, “I’ll be seeing you after the reception, man.”

Dolph grins and knocks heads with Dean, patting his arm and making a face at him.

“Naomi, you make my boy here really happy. I thought I’d be the only one who could make him laugh so hard he has to lie down, but clearly I’ve got some competition now,” Dean says, feigning a somber sigh as he clutches his heart solemnly. “I wish nothing but the best for you two dorks, and I can’t wait to attend all your pretentious dinner parties and couples game nights. Cheers.”

Dolph bites down on his beaming smile and stands up to pull Dean in for a proper hug. “You dick. I love you, man.”

Dean can’t help but grin and hug Dolph back just as tight. “Love you too, mate.”

Dean sits back down and hands Roman his drink with a bit of a smirk, giving him a wink and mouthing “don’t fuck up” with a small laugh escaping his lips.

Roman rolls his eyes and knocks Dean’s knee with his own before standing up and smiling over at the crowd. “Um, hi,” Roman starts off, already getting people to giggle because there’s just something about the way he presents himself to others that gives them some kind of bubbly feeling. Or maybe that’s just Dean. “So of course Dean had to set the bar up and be all funny. Thanks for that.”

Roman pretends to look bitter as he squints his eyes. Dean raises his non-existent glass up towards him and lets a smile peak through.

“I really don’t even know where to start because – gosh, my sister is married,” Roman says with a laugh, clapping a hand on her shoulder, and beaming down at her. “To a guy Dean introduced me to at a pub, not a wrestling show, might I add.”

There’s more laughter, and eventually Dean kind of just loses his sense of hearing because he’s much too mesmerized by just watching Roman. How gets that glint in his eye when he’s telling a childhood story about Naomi, or how he looks down and shuffles his feet a bit when he gets the whole hall to burst out laughing. He’s kind of extraordinary, Dean realizes.

Dean gives Roman a pat on the back and a beaming smile once he’s finished, wondering to himself how the hell he’s gotten so lucky to have someone like Roman in his life.

They continue on with little speeches as the servers hand out their meals, guests lining up on the stage to talk about how Dolph’s turned into such an impressive young man or a story about Naomi getting drunk and confessing her love over the phone to Seth instead of Dolph on accident. It’s either a sappy speech or an embarrassing story, and Dean finds it entirely interesting either way.

“We’re the last ones, y’know,” Roman hums, as he leans back on his chair, once they servers take their empty plates away, keeping his gaze up on the stage but clearly speaking to Dean. “All of our friends are married or in a serious relationship now except for us.”

“Is there a problem with that?” Dean asks a little defensively because it’s not like he hasn’t realized this earlier on. Once Dolph had announced his engagement, he’d spent the rest of the day wondering how the hell time had gone so fast. It was like just yesterday all of them were training their asses off to make their dream a reality. Then it was like he blinked and now he’s 30, and although he’s at the peak of his career, he is still living with his best friend, while his other friends are all married. It’s quite a terrifying thought.

“No, no,” Roman says quickly, grabbing the bottle of champagne on the table and refilling Dean’s glass without him asking for it. Mind reading, is what it is. “It’s just, I guess I always thought I’d be the first. I mean – that makes me sound like a knob, I’m sure…”

“It does,” Dean chimes in, bringing his glass up to his lips to hide his smile. “But go on.”

Roman glares for a moment before blinking and shrugging a bit, looking over at Seth and Randy giving a joint speech. Of course.

“You know how I am. I eat all this sappy wedding shit up, and look at me now – sitting here with my best friend watching my other best friends move on with their lives.”

Dean frowns a bit because he’s never really thought of it (or at least wanted to think of it) like that. He doesn’t want to think about everyone moving on because that means this is all just temporary. That they’re all temporary. He shakes his head and sets his glass down carefully.

“I think we’re getting on just fine,” he hums, turning to give Roman a small assuring smile.

Roman turns to face Dean and gives him a bit of a curious look. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’re good.”

We’re extraordinary.

 

xxxx

 

Once the cake is cut and everyone’s more than halfway done with it, Seth makes his way on stage to attend to his duties as DJ Rollins (that’s a real thing Dolph made a banner for. Seth didn’t have the heart to tell him no) for the night. Dean and Roman also hired a few artists who have a few duets and songs planned, but that’s later on when everyone’s feeling sappy.

It’s only half an hour into the whole ‘dancing’ part of the reception when he manages to lose Roman in the crowd of people after switching partners every few seconds. Dancing at weddings is a lot more difficult than he remembered.

“Where’d Roman go?” Dean asks Nikki when he sits down beside her to catch a breather; he runs a hand through his hair to make sure it’s in place. “Have to make sure the mister is staying out of trouble, after all.”

Nikki grins up at Dean and looks around with squinted eyes. “He was off helping with the photo booth, I recall – oh! There he is with Cody.”

Dean’s expression automatically goes steely and he’s sure he’s clenching his fists, but he manages to smile at Nikki and thank her before going over to the two working at an area besides the dance floor to set up a ‘photo booth’ (another Pinterest thing, Dean assumes).

“Hi,” Dean chirps obnoxiously, clapping a hand over Cody’s shoulder. “Can I help you with anything, mate? Here, let me take over.”

“I’ve got it,” Cody insists, leaning away and giving Dean a pointed look.

Roman’s too focused on pinning up some fabric as a backdrop to really notice, setting off to go get more material.

“What are you doing here, you imbecile? Haven’t you got anyone else to annoy?” Cody says with a tight smile, batting his eyelashes at Dean obnoxiously.

“What are you even here for? They’re not even your friends.” Dean scoffs internally, a bit disappointed that he couldn’t come up with a better comeback in time.

“Such a charmer, you are,” Cody muses, nibbling idly at his nail as he gazes over at Roman. Dean is seeing red.

“Whatever,” Dean huffs before taking a generous sip of a martini he picked up from a server walking by, fiddling around with the toothpick a bit while glaring at Cody.

Cody turns to face Dean with a blank look. “Can I help you, child?”

“Yeah. Stay away from Ro—”

“Cody! I found the extra lights!” Roman interrupts as he approaches the two, waving the fairy lights around ceremoniously. “Help me set them up?”

Cody blinks at Roman a few times and smiles warmly. “Yeah, of course,” he says, putting a hand over Roman’s shoulder as he follows over to the photo booth area, looking back at Dean with a raised eyebrow and smirk.

“Fucking asshole piece of –”

“Dean?” Randy interrupts.

And, oh, has he been there the whole time?

“What was that about?” Randy asks, looking a mix between concerned and calm. He’s sure Seth has a lot to do with that.

“What was what about?” Dean asks even though today is just not his day for covering things up.

“You and Cody. Roman and Cody. You and Roman.”

Dean groans and attempts to hide away in the mini-bar, but is pulled back by his suspenders. He really wishes he didn’t wear them.

“Nothing, okay? Nothing’s going on,” Dean huffs for what seems like the billionth time this evening. “Christ, why is everyone up my ass today?”

“Roman isn’t. Not yet, at least,” Seth muses as he comes to stand next to Randy and – okay, clearly it’s like a package deal when it comes to those two. A package deal of assholes.

“What do you two twats want me to say? I hate Cody? Fine, I do. I think he’s pretentious and dumb and he looks at Roman like a creep and – it’s annoying,” Dean mumbles, setting his drink on a nearby table to cross his arms. He needs to prove his point, obviously.

“Then why don’t you just tell him that?”, Randy asks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Not everyone is as open as you two lovebirds. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to use the restroom.”

He doesn’t have to. He just needs to get away and possibly get another martini, so he goes and gets a martini first. Then he goes out into the hallway anyways because he’d rather not deal with his pests of friends badgering him with questions. He’s about to walk into the restroom until he hears what sounds like Roman’s voice. Dean narrows his eyes and presses his ear against the door, narrowing his eyes even more as if that’ll help him hear. The door is slightly open so he tries to peep in and when he does, he wishes he hadn’t. It’s Roman and Cody. Fuck. 

Roman mumbles something he can’t hear very clearly, but it’s something along the lines of, “What are you saying?” Ditto.

“Roman,” he hears Cody say, which makes him clench a fist and come might close to bursting in and starting a scene. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Dean slaps a hand over his mouth and straightens up, his eyes wide and his mouth hung open.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, the same time Roman says it out loud.

Dean dashes away back into the hall before either of them can catch him, and heads straight to the mini-bar.

He can’t even get buzzed though, since the only drinks are fruity margaritas or hard-liquor drinks that are dressed up to look sleek but frankly taste like shit. He orders another martini, despite the fact they just give him a headache, if anything.

He’s sipping gratefully at the drink until he sees Roman walking in with his eyebrows furrowed in a focused look and – shit, he’s walking to the mini-bar.

Dean ducks down and does a bit of a prowl among the crowd to get to the other side of the hall, clutching his drink closely to his chest like it’s his lucky charm.

That’s when he bumps into Cody. Great.

“How very dare you,” Dean says, his voice wavering a bit with uncertainty as he stands up straight. He’s unsure if he’s trying to translate anger or hurt or authority – he supposes it’s a bit of all three. “Who do you think you are? Just – walking around… saying ‘I love you’ to my best friends,” he huffs, jabbing a finger at Cody’s chest. “Roman is a good guy and you –”

“He didn’t say it back,” Cody says, looking rather unfazed about it all and really, does this man just have two emotions? Condescending and blank? “He said he was already in love with someone else.”

Dean thinks he’s going lightheaded. That is, until he hears Roman’s voice saying his name from behind. Now he’s surely going lightheaded.

Dean is usually incredibly good at hiding things. He wasn’t constantly called ‘The Troublemaker’ for nothing during his childhood – and most of his adult life. This though. Well, all that went to shit. It was like all the history of being sly and sneaky had melted away because he could feel his cheeks getting warm and his throat drying out and a bead of sweat roll down his forehead.

“Dean?” Roman repeats, reaching out to grasp onto his shoulder and shake him a bit and -- no. That’s the last thing he needs now. Like, on The List of Things Dean Ambrose Needs Right Now, Roman’s hand on his shoulder is possibly number 300. Maybe not even in the book. He looks over to see Cody already off and chatting to someone else, so he’s all in this by himself. Not that he expecting Cody to be much help, or anything.

“Roman! Hey, how are ya? I’m good!” Dean says quickly, though it comes more as a yelp as he dips away from Roman’s hold and manages to utter out a bit of nervous laughter. “Great, actually. Wow, have you tried these fancy drinks? Rather tasty.”

“That’s a martini.” Roman deadpans, as he focuses his eyes on Dean well aware that he’s hiding something. 

“Isn’t that what I said?” Dean forces out another laugh and is so thankful that fairy lights and lanterns don’t pick up much detail because this would be the part in the sitcom where he sweats through his shirt like a doofus. He’s sure glad his life isn’t a sitcom (though it would be nice to have the guarantee of a ‘happily-ever-after’). He purses his lips tightly around the rim of the cup to buy time. Think, Dean, think. “I’ve got to use the restroom.”

Brilliant. Truly, Dean’s outdone himself. He scolds himself as he pushes his way through the crowd, managing to block out Roman calling for him.

“Dean, where are you going? Go get Roman and come to the dance floor with us!” he hears Nikki’s chipper voice say from behind him.

Dean internally screams and promptly makes a beeline away from the crowd and out of the hall into the hallway (hallway of the hall, if you will). He pushes through the bathroom door is utterly grateful there aren’t any dudes pissing. Perfect for throwing a tantrum.

He starts off by throwing the martini glass as hard as he can against the ground, which of course does nothing except spill and roll. Of course the glass is actually some super-form of plastic. The world hates him.

“Fine, Roman-fucking-Reigns. You win! You’re right. You’ve uncovered the story, I’m actually in love with you!” he shouts out to no-one, throwing his hands up and laughing maniacally. “Tune in next week on The Ambrose Truth where we uncover yet another unfortunate secret!”

Dean waits -- as if maybe there’ll be a studio audience there to applause. But when he just hears the faint sounds of music coming from the hall, he huffs loudly again.

“HEAD OVER HEELS, ROMAN. HEAD OVER HEELS,” he shouts, his voice cracking a bit at how loud he’s strained his voice. And – nothing.

And, it’s weird. This is definitely the part where Roman’s supposed to come out from one of the stalls and be like, ‘do you really mean that?’ and Dean is supposed to be like, ‘how long have you been there?’ and Roman is supposed to go up to Dean and cup his cheeks into his hands and murmur ‘long enough’ before pulling him into a kiss. That’s just how things work. Well, according to a majority of movies he’s watched about this… problem.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, climbing onto the counter and clutching his knees to his chest, just in time for Renee to walk in. “Hey –”

“You do know this is the women’s restroom, yeah?” she says, looking completely unfazed as she stands in front of the mirror to retouch her makeup a bit. “Also, I’ve been outside long enough to hear your little tantrum. Quite pathetic, but congrats.”

Dean opens and closes his mouth multiple times, most likely resembling a fish right now. “You – but… Ren, you can’t –”

“Relax,” she instructs, patting Dean’s arm with a small smile and returning to her eyeliner. “If anyone’s going to find out, it’s coming from you. Tonight, hopefully?”

“Yeah, right,” Dean scoffs, hopping off the counter to lean against it and side-eyes Renee. “Let me just tell my best friend of God knows how many years that I’m in love with him. That sounds wonderful. Do you think after he rejects me, we’ll be able to maintain a distant and awkward friendship? Golly, I sure hope so.”

Renee huffs and puts her eyeliner away, pulling out a tube of lip gloss and glaring at Dean in the corner of her eye. “Why are you so blind to what’s in front of you?” she says simply, putting her lip gloss away and smacking a sticky kiss onto Dean’s cheekbone (he’s her personal blotting sheet, apparently).

As she leaves, he considers it. Then he considers maybe going to Dolph or Seth or something, which he’s quick to shake off. (“What’s up, Deano?” “Oh, not much. Just realized you were right the whole time and I love my best friend, though haha good times!” “Haha you’re such a knob head. Hilarious!”)

Dean leaves the restroom and returns to the hall, darting his eyes around cautiously as he goes to sit at his table. Of course, that’s the dumbest idea ever because where else would Roman be.

“Dean,” Roman says seriously, like he’s ready to talk business. Dean hates that voice on him. “What was all of that about?”

Dean sighs and drums his fingers against his bouncing knee. He’s not nervous. He’s far more than nervous.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dean shrugs, looking everywhere but at Roman.

“Earlier with Cody. Why’d you act like that?”, Roman, on the other hand, was staring right at Dean. Never moving his gaze.

Dean sucks in his cheeks and looks guiltily at the ground. He’s losing his touch completely. “Act like what?”

“Like – like a dick?” And ouch. That’s a bit sore on the heart. “What – is it offensive to you if someone happens to admit they love me?”

“No! It’s nothing like that, Roman, c’mon,” Dean says, finally looking up to meet Roman’s gaze. Bad idea, really, considering his eyes are incredulous and curious looking and just boring into him and he’s not sure what to do. “I just don’t like Cody.”

“Did you ‘just not like’ Matt either? Or literally anyone I show any sign of interest in?”

Dean actually has to pause and blink a few times to actually process what he’s just said. “What? You think I’m jealous or something? Quit being impractical.”

“Impractical? Me?” Roman guffaws, giving a mix of a snort and scoff. “Well if we’re throwing around adjectives, let’s talk about how irresponsible you’ve been –”

“Irresponsible? I’m irresponsible?” Dean stares at Roman, gaze hard. “Please, Roman, entertain me.”

“Anytime you get jealous – and yes, I’m calling you jealous – you just… avoid me. You act like it’s my fault and you don’t bother to even talk about it.”

“Jealous?! What do I have to be jealous of?” Dean immediately responds, making sure to not get loud. They are at a wedding after all. Thank God the music is a tad too loud. 

“I don’t know, Deano. You tell me.” Roman folds his arm, leaning back on his chair.

Dean furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth, but stops completely to see Renee going up to Dolph and whispering something in his ear. ‘If anyone’s going to find out, it’s coming from you’ his ass.

Dolph looks around and locks eyes with Dean, giving a bit of an amused look before nodding and grabbing his guitar as he skips up on stage to interrupt whatever song Seth is playing over the speakers. Tonight, Dean dies.

“Hi, again,” Dolph greets into the microphone, grinning down at everyone. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got another song. I dedicate this to Naomi, of course, and a friend of mine who needs a little push.”

Subtle, Dolph, real subtle.

Dean rolls his eyes when he hears the opening chords of More Than Words, possibly the most eye-roll worthy song he could hear right now. He glares up at Dolph, who’s waggling his eyebrows idiotically over at Dean on stage. Dean needs to have a conversation with him about professionalism. And subtlety. And just not being a wanker.

“Hey,” a voice says behind him, and of course it’s Cody smiling meekly down at Roman. His Roman. Not going down without a fight, clearly. “Wanna dance? As friends. It’s a wedding, after all. Better make use of the dance floor.”

Dean’s eye twitches a bit as he turns completely to observe the situation happening literally right in front of him. He gives Roman an incredulous look and gets a challenging glare in return.

“I’d love to, yeah,” Roman says, following Cody to the dance floor while wrapping an around his waist. Okay, so maybe Dean deserves that.

He huffs and sits back in his seat, flicking his scowl from Cody and Roman to Dolph on stage.

“More than words is all you have to do to make it real, then you wouldn't have to say that you love me ‘cause I'd already know,” Dolph belts out with a scrunched up face and closed eyes, clearly having gotten into the spirit. Dean’s also sure that he says ‘him’ instead of ‘me’, but that could just be his internal crisis thinking.

And, okay. Dean understands hints when he gets them, but what does that even mean? More than words? Should he do some kind of love dance? Should he jump out of the window stark naked with Roman’s name painted on him with cake? What says ‘I love you’ better than ‘I love you’, is what Dean would like to know.

“Okay, so here’s the thing,” a voice says, scooting a chair beside him. Ugh, this is the last thing he needs. Another ‘pep talk’.

“Not in the mood, Seth,” Dean grumbles, keeping his gaze ahead on the dance floor (burning holes at Cody’s back – not that he’d admit it).

“Do you remember when I first met Randy?” Seth questions, and Dean snorts because how could he forget. “Straight as a bat, dating some girl who looked like a Brazilian supermodel, and clearly only using me for fame.”

“Yes, Seth, it’s a miracle that you two are still together,” Dean coos, taking Seth’s whiskey from his hands and sipping from it with a raised eyebrow. “Is there a point to this story that I’ve heard a million times?”

Seth narrows his eyes a bit and knocks his knee against Dean’s. “When the going gets tough, you have to just tell him.”

Dean sighs and gestures up at Dolph on stage. “I’m getting mixed signals here, Seth. Do I tell him or not?”

“You do, but just. Not in that way,” Seth says with a small shrug, as if he made any sense at all. Dean gives him a look and Seth tuts a bit. “Make him know it without having to actually tell him.”

Then he’s gone. What a great source of wisdom he is.

So there Dean sits, listening to the voices of the singers he hired combining beautifully to cover Sinatra.

“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you,” they harmonize, and he’s not sure when all of his friends found out about him loving Roman (yet he’s also kind of sure it all started with Renee), but fine. He gets it. Don’t say ‘I love you’ but make sure he knows. Great. He’s so glad he has vague friends.

 

xxxx

 

He’s walking over to Roman.

He’s just requested a song and he’s walking over to Roman about to ask him to dance and never has he felt this trapped in a high school movie cliché. But that’s what this night is, really – one big, sappy, rom-com cliché.

Roman just narrows his eyes in on Dean as he approaches, leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms stubbornly.

“That server just refilled my drink. Gonna go blow up on him too?”

“Dance with me,” Dean says, dismissing the chance to snap back with a reply. He just holds out his hand out for Roman and waits, probably looking like an arse.

Roman stares at Dean’s hand with uncertainty, considering for a bit before taking it and allowing himself to be guide out onto the dance floor.

“Since when do you ask people to slow dance?”

Dean shushes him and places his hand on the small of Roman’s back, lacing their fingers together in a sort of waltz position. If he’s going to be sappy, then he’s going to be sappy.

“Listen,” he orders, beginning to sway along as Sinatra’s hums fill the hall. “Don’t you recognize this song?”

Roman squints in concentration as he tries to pin down the tune, eventually melting into a dopey look and goofy grin on his face.

“Of course I do. Call Me Irresponsible, yeah? I always said if I were in a movie, this would –”

“—be the song that plays when you finally get to slow dance with Hugh Grant after he apologizes for breaking your heart earlier,” Dean finishes with a grin, rolling his eyes a bit. “I know I’m not Hugh Grant, and hopefully I didn’t break your heart or anything. But – y’know. Subtext.”

“God, it’s quite embarrassing how you remembered that,” Roman laughs, pressing back into Dean’s hand a bit. “And what exactly is the hidden meaning, hm?”

Dean tuts and nods towards the speakers, mouthing along exaggeratedly as the words are crooned out.

Call me irresponsible, yes, I'm unreliable  
But it's undeniably true  
I'm irresponsibly mad for you

And, of course, no slow dance in a rom-com is complete with a spin – which Dean ends up tripping Roman with on accident, but it’s a spin nonetheless.

When Dean pulls Roman back, he expects that same goofy grin splayed on his face. Instead, he’s greeted with curious eyes, parted lips, and an expression that’s just deep in thought.

Well, fuck. That’s not supposed to happen, now is it?

“I – er, I just thought…” 

“Is that it then? That’s why you’ve been a knob and why you’ve been staring at me like I just cured cancer all day?” Roman asks with a cocked head. “You have feelings for me?”

Wait, no no no no no. No. Dean wasn’t being so obvious now, was he? And why does Roman seem so casual about this? Isn’t this the part where Roman is supposed to freak out at Dean and tell him how this is an abysmal idea and that this is wrong? 

“Erm, you weren’t really supposed to see me staring, but –”

"Do you know what it was like hearing Cody say he loves me and looking back to see you sprint away from the door?"

"What?" Dean asked, almost a reflex.

"Yeah I saw you. So, let’s begin, yeah?” Roman chuckled.

But Dean doesn’t want that as a beginning, middle or end. He was sure that Roman didn't see him but guess not. He felt his cheeks getting warm. 

"I guess it was pretty embarrassing for both of us," Dean said, and turned his head away from him so Roman wouldn't see his face. "I know, I just kept staring at you."

"What were you thinking?" Roman sternly asks.

"I don't remember.", he half-lies. 

"Don't you start using that line," Roman chided.

"Then don't ask me, Roman." 

Did he suspect how Dean felt? No, that can't be. Right? Dean sure hopes so. 

Roman lifted his hand and gently touched Dean's jaw so he would turn around to face him. Dean shivered at the slight touch. Although he turned his head towards Roman, he focused on his shirt. 

"Okay," he said quietly, "I'll tell you what I was thinking. I couldn't believe that I, a man who was never going to get hooked, had fallen in love with a man who probably doesn't want to date me because well, I'm his best friend and he probably doesn't even consider me as an option, and there he was watching somebody else express their love for me."

Dean glanced up.

"Your turn. What were you thinking?"

"That you looked beautiful in his arms and that you didn't pull away from him when he told you he loves you."

He drew Dean closer to him as he whispered in his ear, "In that case, if you give me the chance, I'm not pulling away ever again."

Roman moved away so they could look into each other's eyes. Raw emotions and the need to hold each other close overwhelmed them. Every part of Dean ached for him — his mind, his soul, and his body. 

The rest of his words turn to mush when Roman leans down to push their lips together, removing his hand from Dean’s to wrap around his waist and hold him tight like he never wants to let go. And honestly, Dean doesn’t think he wants him to, anyways.  
Dean doesn't know though. Dean wants him, badly. But what are they doing? Is this a one night thing, or a long term setup? Even if Roman gave it to Dean for one night, would it be enough? Dean knew it wouldn't be enough, what he felt for Roman was more than just physical. Roman already felt like a heavy drug. The kind Dean avoids on purpose—crack, heroin, meth. The ones that screwed with your mind, crept into your blood and left you powerless, helpless.

Roman pulls away from the kiss when he noticed that Dean had spaced out, “Hey, it’s our first kiss and you’re already daydreaming.”

“No, it’s not that.”, Dean starts, not sure whether to actually ask Roman about this or not, “Will this work? It isn't a one-time thing, right?" Dean asks, his tone unsure.

Roman just smiles at him and brushes Dean’s hair to the side using his fingers. 

"While the idea of taking you right now, against the wall, is enough to make me lose control," Roman's smirky expression soon turned to a serious one, "I want you to know that I’m serious. You’re not a hook up. You’re not a friend with benefits. You’re more than that to me.”

Dean closed his eyes, breathing heavily. “Well, that was…really sort of perfect.”

“I’m really sort of perfect … Everyone else knows that. You’re just a little slow on the uptake."

Roman then leaned in again to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

“You asshole,” Roman murmurs against Dean’s lips, pulling back to whack Dean’s shoulder. “How dare you keep something like this from me for so long!”

Dean snickers, a little breathless, considering his lips have been snogged off. “Right. I should’ve told you over breakfast or something. ‘Hey dude, turns out I sorta love you’ yeah?”

“Yes, D, exactly like that,” Roman deadpans, pulling Dean’s arms over his shoulders to go back to slow dancing. “And I would’ve been like ‘Whoa, pal. Ditto’ and then we could’ve snogged way long ago. I‘m quite offended it took this long, really. It’s like you’ve been living a lie.”

Dean huffs and hides his smile into Roman’s neck because they’ve just unofficially yet somewhat officially declared their love for each other, and it’s not as bad as he thought.

“It was worth it though, ‘cause this is quite nice,” Roman hums eventually, drawling little circles into Dean’s back with his thumbs. “Extraordinary, really.”

Dean raises an eyebrow and grins to himself, pulling back just enough to smack a kiss onto Roman’s lips. “Extraordinary,” he agrees with a short nod, resting his head back against Roman’s shoulder and inhaling.

Bergamot, musk, and home.

xxxx 

*Seven years later.* 

 

Dean is woken up to the sound of something breaking and then the loud cry of what he can only assume is from their three year old daughter, Sophia. He sighs and rolls over onto the empty side of their bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly. He checks the time and sees it’s nearly nine o’clock so he sighs again and gets out of bed, padding into the kitchen.

“What happened here?” Dean asks, looking at his husband, his five year old son Lucas, and Sophia crying in Roman’s arms, then the broken bowl full of batter on the ground. Roman looks up and gives him a lopsided grin, bouncing the baby lightly in his arms.

“Just had a little accident, right, Lukey?” Roman asks, looking at their son.

“Sorry, Papa. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to surprise you with pancakes and I dropped the bowl,” Lucas explains, his bottom lip trembling as he looks at the mess he made.

“Aw, baby, that’s okay,” Dean soothes, walking towards Lucas and picking him up. “Hey, we can do it again, okay? Thank you for trying though. We all make mistakes, yeah?” he explains softly, moving the soft curls out of his face and planting a kiss on his cheek. Lucas giggles and Dean smiles, tickling his tummy.

“Papa!” Lucas shrieks, and Dean takes the opportunity to wipe the few tears that slipped from his son’s eyes.

Dean sits Lucas down on the counter and kisses his forehead before going over to Roman and Sophia. Dean takes Sophia from Roman’s arms and rocks her gently. “Hi, sweetie. Did you get scared?”

“Yeah, she got a bit of a fright,” Roman replies, rubbing her soft cheek.

“Aw, it’s okay now. Daddy will clean it up, right?” Dean asks, smiling sweetly at Roman, who just laughs.

“Sure Daddy will clean it up. Because Papa doesn’t even know how a vacuum works,” Roman teases, giving Dean a peck on the lips.

“Mm, you still married me,” Dean raises an eyebrow, smiling.

“Well fortunately, I love you despite your messiness,” Roman confirms, giving his lips another kiss before grabbing the broom and vacuum. Dean is able to calm Sophia down with kisses and soft humming. Once the mess is all cleaned up, Roman gets out the extra ingredients so him and Lucas get to work once again. Dean sits on a chair in front of the island and puts Sophia on his lap.

“So what is our plan for today after breakfast?” Dean asks, bouncing Sophia lightly.  
“Well, I heard it’s supposed to snow most of the day, so I was thinking we could bake some cookies and Luke said he wants to make a snowman,” Roman explains, his hands on his hips as he watches Lucas mix the pancake batter.

“That sounds good. I’m going to have to wrap some gifts later tonight,” Dean says, watching Sophia play with the banana slices in front of her.

Roman drops the whisk from his hand and just stares at Dean. 

“You…” he starts, genuinely sounding astonished “you’re going to wrap gifts?” Roman furrows his eyebrows and Dean rolls his eyes.

“Very funny, Ro. I mean, I’ll probably let you wrap the gifts for the kids, but I have some very private gifts for you that I don’t want you to see until Christmas morning,” Dean explains with a smile.

“Private gifts in front of the kids?” Roman asks with fake shock and Dean chuckles.

“No, no. The special private gifts will be tonight, after bedtime,” Dean says softly with a wink in his direction.

“Mm, makes more sense,” Roman murmurs and Lucas huffs out in frustration.

“Am I done mixing yet? My arms hurt,” he whines, and Roman and Dean chuckle.

“Oops, sorry, buddy. Yeah, it looks perfect! Let Daddy put them on the stove, okay? Do you want to get the syrup and forks?” Roman asks, leaning over the counter.

“Yeah!” Lucas shouts. Roman picks him up off of the counter and puts him on the floor, letting him run to the lower cabinet and grab the syrup.

“Luke, how many forks do we need?” Dean asks. Lucas pauses and stares at the forks for a moment.

“Um, one for me, one for Papa, one for Daddy, and Sophie’s special baby fork,” Lucas mumbles to himself, using his tiny fingers to count. “Four!”

“Good job!” Dean says proudly. Lucas grins at him and takes the four forks with the syrup, holding them close to his chest as he waddles carefully over to Roman and gives them to him. Roman smiles and takes them out of his hands and kisses his forehead. They eat together as a family, as usual, and Dean offers to wash the dishes while Roman gets the kids ready for playing in the snow. They go out and play in the snow together, running around and laughing. Roman sets Sophia down while he, Dean, and Lucas work on building a snowman. She watches on in awe, occasionally patting the snow around her with her gloved hands.

“Roman,” Dean whines. “Why did you have to make him so tall? I can barely reach his head!”

“Sorry, babe. I can pick you up and help you,” Roman offers, giving him a smug smile to which Dean rolls his eyes.

“No, thank you. I feel like I’m having a fat day.” 

“Well, I still think you look beautiful, as always,” Roman grins, kissing the corner of his mouth and Lucas huffs in annoyance.

“That’s so yucky,” he complains, smoothing the parts of the snowman he can reach.

“Yucky? Kissing is yucky?” Roman asks, crouching down and quickly grabbing Lucas and picking him up. He attacks him with kisses and Lucas just squeals.

“Papa! Papa, help me! Daddy is attacking me.” Lucas shouts. Dean watches fondly, smiling to himself and looking over at Sophia, who is watching with furrowed eyebrows. Definitely a Roman face, he thinks to himself.

“What do you think, Soph? Should I help your brother?” Dean asks, as if he’ll get an answer. She just stares back at him, blowing a bubble with her red lips and Dean smiles. “I think Sophie said I shouldn’t help you, Luke. Sorry.”

Roman falls into the snow with Lucas on his chest and they roll around laughing. “Tell me you’re sorry!” Roman shouts.

“Never!” Lucas giggles back, smashing snow into Roman’s cheek.

“Ahh!” Roman exclaims.

“Hey, hey, hey, someone is going to get hurt or sick. C’mon, Sophie looks like she’s turning blue from this air,” Dean says, picking her up off the ground and holding her close. She automatically snuggles into his chest and holds him around the neck, her cheeks bright pink. Dean kisses all over his little face, trying to warm her up.

Roman stands up and grabs Lucas with him, holding him up by the waist. “Alright, are we ready to bake some cookies, then?”

“Coooookies!” Sophia yells, lifting her head off of Dean’s shoulder. Dean grins at that and they go back inside. Roman and Dean help their kids get out of their snowy clothes and put on their warm pyjamas. Dean and Roman do the same with their own clothes, and they pile into the kitchen to start on their cookies while Dean fixes the room up. Roman’s in the kitchen as he gathers all the ingredients with Lucas as his helper, and Dean has a hopeful feeling in his gut that this becomes a strong tradition that the kids will never get too old for, and maybe even do it with their own children. The thought of his babies growing him scares him more than anything, and he doesn’t want to miss a day of their lives. 

Once Dean makes his way downstairs, the sound of laughter pours from the kitchen, loud and unapologetic. Little hands sticky with frosting, flushed cheeks spotted with flour. It's Christmas Eve, Dean stands in the doorway watching his three favorite people decorate Christmas cookies. He moves into the kitchen and sits on a stool next to the island, watching fondly as his son covers a cookie in blue and red swirls.

"For you, Papa," he grins as he slides his cookie over to Dean.

Dean looks at the colorful cookie with a smile on his face. "Aww, thank you, bud, I love it."

"Heyyyyyyy," Roman pouts from his spot between their children, "Where's my cookie?"

“You don’t get any”, Lucas giggles and Roman's hands fly to his stomach, fingers sliding under his shirt to tickle his belly.

"Daddy," he shrieks as he squirms in his spot at the counter, "Daddy stop, that tickles!"

"Alright, alright," Roman laughs as he pulls his hands away from his son's stomach.

"We have to make cookies for Santa, Daddy. Not you." Lucas says, sternly, pushing his hair off of his face.

"Not fair, you gave your Papa a cookie!" Roman fake whines.

"That's because Papa's the best," Dean says with a smirk, biting into his cookie.

"Yeah yeah," Roman says. He can't help but smile as he watches his husband pull their son into his lap. Running his fingers through Lucas's hair, his wedding band almost glowing against the shaggy head of curls.

“I want to frost a snowman,” Lucas announces.

“That’s a good idea, bud,” Dean agrees, handing him the white frosting.

“Thanks, Papa. Do you think Santa is going to get me that Lego set that I want?” Lucas asks, grabbing the snowman-shaped cookie and frosting it with white.

“I don’t know, bud. Have you been a good boy?” Roman asks, frosting a snowflake cookie.

“Yeah! Daddy, I’ve been a very good boy,” Lucas huffs.

“Mm, I think he’s right, Daddy. He has been quite good,” Dean agrees. They’ve tried to get into the habit of calling each other Papa and Daddy around the kids, just so Sophia could pick it up without being confused.

“Well, then Santa probably will bring you that Lego set, bud,” Roman grins, kissing his forehead.

“Are these the cookies we’re leaving for Santa?”

“Yeah, unless Daddy and Sophia eat them all,” Dean glares at his husband, who’s chewing on a cookie and feeding another to their daughter.

“Sorry,” Roman mumbles with his mouth full.

“Daddy! Those are for Santa Clause. He’s going to bring you coal if you eat his cookies!” Lucas shouts.

“I’m helping Santa with his diet. If I eat the cookies, he’ll have less to eat and maybe he can lose some weight. Besides, you didn’t even give me any,” Roman shrugs and Dean reaches over and slaps his arm.

“Don’t listen to Daddy. I’ll make sure Santa has plenty of cookies to eat,” Dean promises, grabbing a cookie for himself to decorate.

Roman pouts and decorates a cookie, stealing a glance at Dean and smiling over at him. “Love you,” he mouths. Dean smiles and gives him a small nod.

“Love you more,” he mouths back.

Thankfully, the cookies are a success and only a few are eaten by Dean’s three year old and thirty five year old. 

‘C’mon, just one more!’ Roman had begged, giving Dean those stupid puppy dog eyes that he couldn’t help but give into. Sometimes, Dean swears Roman is like a child, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Dean sets him back on his stool and stands up, surveying the cookies scattered across the counter. There are quite many cookies in total, decorated in greens and reds, blues, and golds. One of them has a brown blob with legs that appears to be a reindeer. Dean smiles to himself then claps his hands together.

"Alright kiddos! Time to put these out for Santa!"

The kids pile the cookies onto a Christmas plate as Roman pours a glass of milk.

Very carefully the kids carry the plate of cookies into the family room where they set the plate on the end table by the couch, along with the glass of milk.

"Do you think he'll like them?" Sophia wondered, voice suddenly small and worried.

"Santa Clause will love your cookies, Soph," Roman smiled as he rubbed her head, "You guys did a great job."

"Ok guys, time to get ready for bed," Dean says as the kids groan.

"But Papa," The kids say in unison, dragging out the, 'a'.

"No buts! You guys need a bath and you need to brush your teeth."

Before the kids can start to pout, Roman smiles brightly, kissing them both on the head. "The faster you two get to bed the faster Santa Clause can come and put out all of your presents!"

The kids squeal in delight and run for the stairs. 

"Walk please!" Dean yells after them, the sound of little feet charging up the stairs.

Dean takes a moment to pull Roman into a hug, gentle and warm.

"How about I clean up the mess in the kitchen while you get Sophia and Luke ready for bed?" Roman asks, nosing at Dean’s jaw.

Dean sighs happily while rubbing his hands up and down Roman's back. "Ok, babe. I'll meet you in the family room when I'm done." Dean pulls back a little so he can lean up and mold his lips to Roman's.

"Mmm" Roman hums contentedly. Before he can deepen the kiss Dean pulls away, laughing softly.

"Later," he promises, thumbs smoothing out the lines on his husband's pouting face.

"Love you." Roman smiles into his chest.

"Love you too, babe." With one last kiss pressed to Roman's shoulder, Dean pulls away and heads for the stairs.

 

xxxx

 

About forty minutes later Roman hears Dean padding down the stairs and into the family room. He grabs two wine glasses from the cabinet and carries them into the room along with a bottle of red wine. Dean sits down on the couch as Roman pours him and himself a glass of wine. He passes him a glass and then curls into Dean’s side.

"Story time, huh?" Roman smiles knowingly.

"You can't go to bed on Christmas Eve without a Christmas story, Papa! It's like a rule of Christmas!" He says in a high pitched voice, imitating their son.

Roman giggles and snuggles further into Dean’s side. The two of them talk quietly while drinking their wine. A little while later they've managed to nearly drain the bottle, most of it Roman's doing. Dean takes their glasses and sets them on the coffee table. Pulling himself out from under Roman, Dean stands up and offers him his hand to help him up. Roman stands up, albeit rather wobbly, and giggles into his hand.

"Whoops," he's still giggling, "’M a bit tipsy, I reckon."

Dean does nothing to hide the overly fond look on his face, he stopped hiding his ‘Roman’ looks, as the boys often called them, quite some time ago. Years, if Dean really thinks about it. "Alcohol control still isn’t the best, yeah?"

Roman pouts and Dean laces their fingers together, pulling Roman out of the room and towards the guest bedroom where all of the Christmas presents are hidden. Luckily they have a guest bedroom on the main floor as well so they don't have to use the stairs and risk waking the kids.

Dean unlocks the door and turns the light on, taking a moment to look around the room. The entire room is filled with presents of all different colors, shapes, and, sizes. Roman and Dean might have gone a little overboard buying gifts for the kids this year. With the kids finally being old enough to properly enjoy Christmas, they couldn't help buying them so many gifts.

"We'll start with the big ones first and work our way down to the smaller packages." Dean lets go of Roman's hand to grab the kid sized Range Rover.

They had been out shopping when Roman spotted the silly thing.

"Oh, Dean, look!" Roman ran over to the display car with child like wonder in his eyes, "It's just like mine!"

Dean had sighed, knowing exactly where this was going.

"We just have to buy this for the ! We'll put it away for Christmas, what do ya say?"

"Roman Reigns, I haven't been able to say no to you in years, what makes you think I'll say no now?" He had smiled, laughing at Roman's excitement.

"Roman Reigns, huh?" He said, walking towards Dean, "I haven't been Roman Reigns in years."

"Is that so?" Dean smirked.

"Oh yeah, married a dude called Dean Ambrose a few years back. You might have heard of him."

"Hmmm," Dean pretended to think for a moment, "The name does ring a bell."

Roman smiled, his perfect teeth on display as he snaked his arms around his husband's waist.

"He was the super fit one, yeah? The wrestler guy, right? Damn, he was good." Dean said with a laugh as Roman hit him in the chest.

"You're the worst! Absolutely terrible! Remind me why I married you again?"

"You married me because we fell in love, and we've been passionately, irrevocably in love ever since. We've travelled the world together, we've grown together, we've lived out of each other's pockets for nearly ten years, we've done it all, and we did it all together, and that's why you married me."

Roman had let out a chocked noise, nodding his head because the last thing he was capable of doing in that moment was forming a proper sentence. He tightened his arms around Dean and buried his head into his chest. Roman let out a deep breath and looked into his husband's eyes.

"Yeah, yeah I did," Roman paused before adding with a smirk, "But I mainly married you for the fact that you were the super fit wrestler."

 

Dean and Roman finished arranging the gifts around the tree shortly after, both nodded in satisfaction when they were done. The living room looked like a picture out of a fancy magazine. Christmas decorations hung everywhere, stockings lining the fireplace, and the giant, beautiful tree in the corner of the room. Roman and Dean made sure they ate Santa's cookies and poured out the milk which had gone room temperature. Dean sighed happily, and then turned to Roman to see him messing with his phone.

"Roman wha- Ro, Ro are you tweeting this? You can't be serious..."

Roman hummed in affirmation, "It’s Christmas, don’t let your social media hatred get to me!"

"You're so cheesy." Dean laughed.

Roman giggled as Dean jumped on his back and started to tickle him, causing him to fall to the ground with Dean splayed on top of him. "Shhh," Dean chided, digging his fingers into Roman's ribs, "Baby, you'll wake the kids!" Dean threw a hand over Roman's mouth which Roman promptly bit. After a few moments both men settled down and took a minute to catch their breath.

"No one cares about our bloody Christmas tree anyway, Ro."

"Actually I'm sure loads of people do. Have you forgotten who we are? We're Roman and Dean and I'll have you know we're still very relevant, thank you very much."

Dean laughed at that and then it was silent for a bit. 

"Roman?" Dean said suddenly, a dark look to his eyes, "It's later now."

“Well, now that everything is quiet and Santa has delivered the presents, I think Papa and Daddy need to exchange their own gifts,” Roman says lowly, nipping at Dean’s neck. Dean smiles and runs his hands down Roman’s arms.

“Hmm, not a bad idea, Daddy,” Dean replies.

Roman grins and pulls Dean in for a kiss. They stay there lying on the rug in the family room, languidly kissing and caressing for what felt like hours. Years later and they still can't get enough of each other. That's one of the things that never changed, their want for each other, their need for each other. It's maddening in the best way.

Before things could go any further, they quickly make way to their bedroom. Heart pounding hard in their chests, Dean went onto the bed the moment they reached the bedroom. Roman let out a small laugh and hopped up to join him, straddling his hips with ease.

“Have you been a good boy this year, Deano?” Roman mumbles into Dean’s neck, leaving a big fat bruise there for everyone to see. The guys’ are going to make snarky comments about this tomorrow, Dean thinks.

“I tried to be, I really did, but I just love being naughty. I couldn’t help myself, I hope I don’t get coal in my stocking,” Dean pouts, starting to nip on Roman’s jaw, noticing that he was already very hard. Then suddenly something clicked in Dean’s head as his eyes grew darker, “Actually why don’t I let you decide?”

Before Roman could reply, he was being pushed off as Dean left the bed to retrieve something from the cupboard. Roman groaned loudly at Dean, “Come back”.

"Eager, are we?" Dean grinned, turning around to look at Roman’s hard-on "Need some help there?"

"Fucking hell, Dean." Roman gasped loudly. Dean's devilish smile shooting arrows. 

Dean pretended to consider it but then just grinned, "I don’t feel like hurrying tonight so I’m afraid I’m gonna have to tie you up.”

Roman was startled at those words. He was always the one to tie Dean up, never the other way around. 

"W-What?" Roman asked with wide eyes. "Y-You're what?"

Dean walked towards their dresser, his eyes intent on something.

"Get undressed and lay on the bed," Dean said with his back to Roman, who was desperately trying not to stare at his ass again.

Clumsily, Roman managed to get off of the bed. His fingers were shaky and uncoordinated as he tried taking off his jumper. He slipped it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Next, he fumbled with his shirt and then his pant buttons. Eventually, he had thrown them all to the corner of the room when he realized Dean was watching him with an amused smile.

"So shaky," Dean commented, slipping off his high heels before walking towards Roman, who then remembered his order to lie on the bed, which he scrambled to do.

Roman watched Dean strut back to the bed with his hands behind his back. He straddled Roman’s hips again before revealing a fairly sturdy looking pair of handcuffs.

Bondage was light in their relationship, no doubt. It wasn't used every time they had sex, and when it was, it wasn't much. But it was there and they enjoyed it. Roman can’t remember the last time they did this type of a thing though, mainly due to the kids constantly being around. They barely get any time for just the two of them and whatever time they get, they mostly prefer doing something peaceful. Sex is obviously not as frequent as it used to be since the kids came around and it’s mostly limited to the bedroom now unlike all over the house as they used to prefer. So, yeah this hasn’t happened in a while. 

In the past, they had discussed light BDSM in their relationship. But Roman was always the dominant one, and never in any of his past relationships, had he ever played the submissive. Now though, watching Dean, he was terribly confused but incredibly turned on.

"Do you want this, daddy?" Dean asked, unrightfully innocently. "Want your baby to tie you up?"

Roman nodded furiously. He had never wanted this more. It was an aching stretch to be fully hard underneath Dean, who was hotly taunting him.

"Hope you remember the safe word?" Dean asked with a smirk, nibbling Roman’s ear.

Roman nodded, meeting Dean’s glimmering eyes.

“Good.”

With delicacy, Dean then scooted higher up on Roman’s chest grabbing his left hand, placing it onto the iron railing of their headboard. Roman cried out in frustration and arousal as Dean cuffed his wrist securely to the railing. The only option for Roman to move his hand was to wrap his fingers around the rail.

"Is it too tight?" Dean asked with decent concern, studying Roman’s face for an answer. Roman managed to shake his head.

Dean nodded and swiftly grabbed his right hand, repeating the same actions he had done before. When finished, he scooted back down Roman’s body, sitting directly over Roman’s straining cock.

Roman cried out under the cuffs, looking to Dean with dark, pleading eyes. He was desperate now. All confidence that he had to play this game with Dean was gone.

Dean watched him struggle and grit his face with a small smile. Roman could tell he was enjoying this way too much.

"You okay, daddy?" Dean purred, tracing his nails down Roman’s ribs.

"Come on, babe," Roman panted, feeling himself beginning to sweat under the pressure and the heat. "You gotta finish what you started."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "I'm in charge," he reminded him again. "But you're lucky, because now, I'm going to make this better.”

Roman gasped as Dean grinded on Roman’s cock once again, before leaning up to bring their lips together.

Dean’s mouth was hot and his lips brought the familiar, sticky, wet taste that Roman was accustomed to. Roman licked eagerly inside of Dean’s mouth, desperate for contact. But then Dean suddenly cut back.

"No," Dean licked his lips. His eyes were wild as Roman starred in complete wonder. "First, you're going to open me up."

Roman nodded. Because yes, he could do that.

"I'm going to sit on your face," Dean decided, drawling it out slow. Roman’s eyes widened at the thought. He nodded hurriedly.

Dean maneuvered himself so he was turned the other way, and suddenly that pretty ass Roman’s been craving was just inches from his mouth.

Roman was simply dying. He wanted to touch Dean and bring him closer and settle him on his face, and lick him out and grip his thighs as tight as possible. He whined loudly.

Dean looked behind him from his position. "Remember your safe word," he told him before removing his boxers and chucking it aside. Then he sat right on Roman’s eager mouth. 

Roman groaned at the feeling of Dean directly on his flushed face. Roman dove into Dean’s hole. He was licking, searching deeper and deeper, feeling the walls clench around his tongue. He could feel the spit from his open mouth smearing onto his face. It was all so hot.

Dean was slowly beginning to rock and squirm against him, working himself onto Roman’s face. Desperation mixed through Roman’s veins, who wanted to use his tied up hands and grab Dean and tell his boy what to do. He was dying to tell Dean to rock harder against him, to suffocate him into the pillow. But for now, he could only moan against his ass.

Suddenly, Roman felt the pressure lift from his face and he let out a much needed, gasping breath. Dean looked behind him with flushed cheeks, starring wildly.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, licking his lips enticingly. "Enjoying yourself?"

Roman felt hot sweat beading on his forehead. He nodded earnestly.

"Want some more? I don't think I'm loose enough yet," Dean grinned deviously. And before Roman could reply, Dean shut him up with his ass on his face, again. 

Roman dove into the walls that were slowly becoming looser as time went on. He wrapped his fingers around the iron headboard anxiously as the overwhelming desire to pull Dean down onto him was becoming increasingly strong. He clutched the headboard desperately as Dean not only rode his tongue, but suddenly began to rock his hips against Roman’s face, surely suffocating him under the heat.

Roman could only moan under the pressure, gripping hard onto the headboard. He suddenly cried out loudly. It was so much, so, so much. He couldn't take it. Dean took note and quickly hopped up.

The room was spinning. Roman could feel a mix of sweat and spit all over his face. He gasped loudly, starring at Dean with wide eyes.

Dean leaned over him, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. "You did so good," Dean praised. "You opened me up so well."

Roman could only nod in return. Every bit of him felt hot and flushed. He was so hard it fucking hurt. And having Dean sit on his face, Jesus Christ, he was so close to coming. 

He watched for several moments as Dean reached behind himself and fingered himself quickly. Roman knew he was well opened up already though.

"I'm proud of you for not coming yet, daddy," Dean said, sitting back down on Roman’s erection. His wet hole was right on the tip. Roman grunted, arching his back into the touch. Dean smiled at his pain.

"You have to come inside me," Dean told him, reaching behind him to move his panties to the side again. "I'm going to fuck myself on your cock now. Don't come until I tell you," Dean glared at him, eyes shooting daggers.

"Remember your safe word," and suddenly, Dean slid right down onto Roman’s cock. He cried out the moment he felt Dean’s tight, wet walls engulfed around his aching cock.

"Fuck, Ro." Dean cried. He placed his hands on Roman’s chest, steadying himself.

Roman starred at the ceiling, clenching his eyes closed. It was taking every bit of his willpower to not come inside of Dean’s tight heat. He cursed under his breath quietly, hearing Dean’s moans as though they were in another world. He was so focused on coming that he couldn't understand anything.

"Look at me," Dean’s voice came back to him. "Look at me, Roman. Watch me ride you, Daddy."

He added the ‘Daddy’ part slowly because he was well aware of how much it turned Roman to hear that word so he made sure that Roman hears it properly.

"Dean," Roman gasped for the first time in awhile. He reopened his eyes quickly, wildly starring at Dean sitting on his cock, rocking his hips back and forth. His movements were slow and steady.

"Does it feel good?" Dean asked him before letting out a small grunt as he began to rock faster. "Does my hole feel good around your cock, daddy?" Roman almost cried out at the name.

"Fuck," Roman heard Dean curse. He tried to keep his eyes open, desperately wanting to watch his baby. But he was straining everything. He knew his palms and fingers were a ghostly white from clenching around the railing so hard. He could only cry out as Dean continued to fuck himself on his cock.

“Shh, Ro, you need to make sure you’re not making too much noise. Don’t wanna wake the kids up.” Dean leans down to whisper in his ears. 

Oh, the kids. Roman almost forgot about them being in the same floor. He mentally cursed at his luck.

"God, you feel so good, daddy," Dean licked his lips deliciously, knowing very well that the more he says this and does these things, the harder it is for Roman to keep quiet and honestly, Dean’s enjoying watching Roman struggle to not make any noise. Roman thrusted his hips up harder at those words, but Dean clawed at his chest harder.

"So tell me, daddy, do you think I have been naughty this year?" Dean teased, eyes flashing. His voice was rapidly turning higher through his harsh pants.

Roman bucked up, crying out again. But Dean clawed at his chest harder.

"Can't help it," Dean continued. He switched his movements, now swiveling his pretty hips in little circles. Roman watched it all through hazy eyes. "I just love being naughty." Dean’s voice was steadily growing higher.

"Baby…" Roman gasped out. "Feels so, so good," words were finally stumbling out of his mouth. Roman was losing all control.

"Doesn't it?" Dean asked as Roman clenched his eyes shut again. "Looks like you’re in the naughty list too."

It was all too much. Roman couldn't control anything anymore. He was aching to come inside of Dean’s heat. He could feel burns rubbing onto his sore, achy wrists. His fingers were rapidly growing numb over the iron bars.

"Can't-" Roman cried. Dean was riding harder and harder. He opened his eyes and was met with Dean fucking himself hurriedly, in completely uncoordinated motions.

“Daddy-" Dean clawed at his chest. "Come."

Just those words. Those words made Roman suddenly let go. He came so hard, feeling himself come so deep inside of Dean. He screamed, feeling his eyes squeeze shut at the release.

Suddenly, everything slipped away and out of his grasp. He was floating in a whole new space. His mind felt as though it were in another place and all he could do was grip the headboard tightly, holding on and gasping. Everything was blurry, and Dean’s wide-eyed gaze suddenly dissolved and everything was out of focus. Roman felt as though his head were high in the clouds.

Roman felt good. He felt so damn good and his entire body felt as though it were buzzing. The world was spacey, and even his mind was in a haze. Roman felt as though he were entering a new realm of pleasure he had never felt before. He clenched his eyes shut at the new feeling, letting it wash over him like a wave. He was waiting for everything to return. And it did as soon as he felt Dean’s soft touch against his cheek. 

“You okay, baby?” Dean asks, genuinely sounding concerned. 

Roman nodded in return as Dean leaned down to kiss him softly, and then uncuffed his wrists. Roman sighed in return as he tried to move his wrists around. Dean held Roman’s wrists in his hands, and looked for any marks. He silently thanked his stars when he didn’t find any.

Roman knew by Dean’s silence and concern that this was bothering him now. So, he pulled him down so they were lying down face to face. “Hey, look at me. I don’t know what got into you today but that was amazing. I really liked it.” 

Dean finally met his eyes, relief washing over his face, “Yeah?”

Roman nodded with a smile, as he pulled him in for an embrace and stayed like that for a while.

Eventually both men pulled apart and decided to head up to sleep. Knowing their children they'll be up at the crack of dawn, eager to open their presents. Roman heads to their bathroom to get a washcloth to clean himself and Dean up. After he was done cleaning, he went back to brush his teeth while Dean took some of the extra pillows off the bed and folds down the duvet. While Roman finishes taking his contacts out he hears a noise in the hallway, but before he could go, Dean walks across their room to poke his head into the hallway. Standing halfway down the hall wrapped in a blue fuzzy blanket is their son.

"What's wrong, bud?" He asks, walking down the hall and crouching down in front of the small toddler.

"Papa, I can't sleep," he says with a pout, his tiny fists rubbing at his eyes.

"Oh, sweetheart c'mere," Dean picks up his son and heads down the hall, "Why don't we go grab Sophia and then we can all get in bed with Daddy."

Lucas buries his face into Dean neck as they go to get Sophia.

Moments later Dean walks into their bedroom and sets the kids down, both kids crawling under the duvet to get comfortable. He walks into the bathroom to find Roman spitting his toothpaste into the sink, thankfully clothed. Ever since having children they had to be more careful about being naked all the time.

He wraps Roman in a hug from behind and kisses the spot between his shoulder blades.

"Found Luke in the hall, couldn't sleep. Went ahead and grabbed Sophia as well and put them both in the bed."

Roman turns around in Dean’s embrace and kisses his forehead. "You get ready for bed, I'll go situate the monsters."

"Thanks, baby," Dean smiles softly as Roman pads out of the bathroom.

Dean climbs into bed while the kids settle themselves between their dads. Luke snuggles into Roman's side while Sophia drapes herself across Dean.

"I'm so excited," she yawns into Dean’s chest, voice soft and sleepy.

"I know, baby girl," he whispers, "Close your eyes and get some sleep ok?"

"Ok, Papa," She says, fighting back another yawn, "I love you."

"I love you too, darling," Dean reaches over and stokes Roman's arm, "Love you Luke, love you, Ro." Dean looks down at his son who is fast asleep, curled up under his dad's arm and snug against his side.

"We love you too, Deano," he smiles as Dean leans over and turns out the light, "Love you, Sophia."

"Love you too, Daddy," she mumbles as she cuddles into Dean’s warm body.

 

xxxx

 

Dean wakes up to the sound of two toddler's squealing and jumping on the bed. He takes a moment to breathe and cracks open an eye, glancing towards his kids.

"Papa! Papa you need to wake up, wake up! It's Christmas morning!" Sophia stops jumping and plops herself down onto Dean’s lap.

Dean lets out an "oof" and squirms to get comfortable.

"Christmas! Christmas!" Luke yells excitedly.

Dean takes a second to look around. The light shining through the bay window is a good sign, he thinks. It can't be too early. He looks over to his alarm clock and is pleased to see that he slept until nine.

"Where's Daddy?" He asks, noticing that Roman is nowhere to be seen or heard.

"He's in the kitchen making breakfast, he told us to come wake you up!" Sophia exclaims.

"Alright, alright, I'm up. Let me go to the bathroom and then I'll be down in a minute." Dean gets out of bed and heads for the bathroom.

The kids squeal and then run out of the room.

"Walk please!" He sighs to himself, closing the bathroom door. Dean brushes his teeth and then washes his hands, taking a minute to think about the days ahead of them. They'll spend the morning opening gifts and then get ready for the family to arrive, both sides coming over to celebrate Christmas with them. Soon their house will be overflowing with guests. Their friends will be coming over as well. Dean is very grateful that while they didn't live in some posh, flashy mansion, they chose a beautiful house with plenty of space for their family and friends. Their family will stay for a few days and then head home, giving them a little time to rest and then prepare for the boys’ and their families to come stay for New Years. The kids can't wait to see their uncles, aunts, and their little buddies.

 

Walking down the stairs Dean can smell the smell of breakfast in the kitchen and hear the excited chatter coming from his kids.

"Papa, hurry up and eat so we can open our presents!" Sophia says through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Preseeents" Luke grumbles, stabbing a piece of fruit with his fork.

Dean walks around the kids and over to Roman placing his arms around his back and breathing him in.

"Good morning, darling." Roman smiles while fixing a plate for Dean who is still clinging to his back.

"Morning, breakfast smells wonderful," Dean pulls himself away from Roman and sits down to eat his food.

"Papa, look, Daddy matches us!" Sophia giggles into her sleeve.

Dean looks over to realize that the have on their soft, red fox footie pyjamas, so does his husband.

"You know Papa has one as well, I got one for each of us!" Roman says with excitement in his tone.

The three of them look up at Dean with wide eyes.

Dean groans knowing good and well that he'll have to change into the ridiculous thing before they head to the living room.

"The things I do for this family," Dean huffs as we walks out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.

Moments later Dean walks into the family room feeling absolutely ridiculous. The pyjamas only came in one size for adults, and while they fit Roman perfectly, the excess fabric of Dean’s pyjamas gather at his ankles and hang over his back.

"I look ridiculous," Dean huffs, walking over to sit himself by the kids in front of the tree.

"Shush, you look gorgeous, fox pyjamas and all." Roman bites back a shit-eating grin. 

"Papa, Santa liked our cookies, he ate them all." Sophia beamed at Dean.

"That's great, sweetie!" Dean said as he pulled her into his lap.

"Alright, who wants to open presents?" Roman asks, grinning.

The kids shout and lunge for the tree.

The rest of the morning is spent in a haze of presents, wrapping paper, and continuous laughter. The kids are thrilled with their selection of gifts and are overjoyed when they're given the toy Range Rover, Roman and Dean beaming at one another the entire time. Once the kids have opened all of their presents they calm down a bit, which makes it easier for Roman and Dean to share their presents.

“Last gift.” Roman says softly after they’ve all shared gifts except for one.

“Babe, you’ve got me enough.”

“This is a gift for all of us, really,” Roman smiles fondly.

Dean watches in amusement as he crawls around the tree in search of the gift. Roman returns to his spot on the floor with a small package in his hands, his breathing gone shaky. Dean raises an eyebrow at his husband, curious as to what's in the box. Roman hands the package over to Dean and sits back, eyes wide, hands laced together in his lap. Dean looks down at the pretty package, wrapped in white paper with a white ribbon tied around the box. He brings the package to his ear and gives it a little shake.

"Hmmmm," he says, "I wonder what it could be?" The kids crowd closer to Dean, eager to see what's inside the box.

Dean carefully unties the ribbon and starts to tear the paper from the box. With careful fingers, Dean takes the top off of the box and pulls out the paper.

Dean is silent as he stares down into the little box. He tears his eyes away from the present and looks up at Roman, a nervous smile gracing his features.

"Roman," he says, the sound a chocked whimper.

Roman stares at Dean with his signature grinny look.

"We wanna see! We wanna see!" Sophia says, her and her brother leaning over to get a good look in the box.

Dean pulls the present from the box, and in the palm of his hand sit a pair of red baby sized Vans.

The kids look at the shoes, and then to each other in confusion.

"Baby," Dean says softly, eyes shiny, voice slightly higher than its usual tone.

"Dean," Roman says, cheeks flushed, a grin high on his face, "Dean, marrying you was the best decision I've ever made. These past few years have been the best years of my life. You're so good to me, and you're so good to our kids, you're the best dad in the world. Nothing makes me happier than just being with you and our children. The kids are older now and things have slowed down a bit, and I would love nothing more than to have another one of these monsters with you."

Dean is full on teary eyed now, unable to move from his spot on the rug.

"Papa, don't cry! You can't be sad on Christmas." Sophia says suddenly, settling herself in front of Dean’s face to wipe away his tears. Dean laughs as his daughter finishes thumbing away the tears under his eyes and pats his cheeks.

"I'm not sad, sweetheart," Dean sniffles, "I'm happy, these are happy tears."

"So? Is that a yes?" Roman questions, his own eyes glistening with tears.

"Yes!" Dean shrieks and launches himself into Roman's lap, "Yes yes yes, a million times yes!"

Roman giggles and hugs Dean close as the older man peppers his face in sloppy kisses.

"Daddy, you made an oops," Lucas says, looking between his two dads.

"Yeah," Sophia agrees, "These shoes won't fit Papa! They won't even fit me, they're tiny." She giggles as she inspects the small pair of shoes.

"I know that, honey, they aren't meant for me." Dean says, unable to hide his grin.

Sophia looks up at her dad and frowns. "Then who are they for?" She wonders.

"They're for a baby." Roman says, twining his fingers with Dean from where he sits nestled in his lap.

"A baby?" She says, "but we don't have a baby, it's just me and Luke."

Roman and Dean turn to each other with a grin then look over to their children.

"How would you feel about your Daddy and I having another baby?" Dean asks carefully, watching their faces as they think the question over.

Lucas turns to his sister and leans over, cupping his tiny hands around her ear.

Both men watch with matching smiles as he whispers to his sister, seemingly deep in conversation.

After a moment he pulls away from Sophia and looks between his dads. "So that would make me an older brother, right?"

"Right" Roman confirms, "You and Soph would be older siblings to a baby boy or girl."

"Fantastic!" He beams, a phrase he picked up from his Papa, no doubt.

"Soph?" Roman asks, looking over to the toddler.

"We're getting a baby?" She asks in awe.

"Yes, baby," Dean smiles, cuddling back into Roman's tight embrace.

"Yay, new baby!”, she exclaims, shaking her little fists, dark curls bouncing with the movement.

"We're gonna have a baby!" Lucas shouts suddenly, jumping up from the floor and grabbing his sister’s hands, pulling her to her feet and twirling her around in circles.

"We're gonna have a baby! We're gonna have a baby!" They singsong together, dancing happily around the living room.

Dean sits back in Roman's arms watching Sophia spin Luke around and vice versa, his lips pressed by his ear.

"I love you so much I can hardly stand it," Roman whispers nosing along the soft skin of Dean’s jaw.

Dean turns his head back and runs a hand up the back of Roman's neck, pulling him down into a soft, slow kiss.

"I love you so much," Dean sighs into Roman's mouth, "So so much."

Dean pulls away to look around the room, his kids dancing and giggling, and his husband warm beneath him.

Roman looks down at him, smiling softly, content. "Merry Christmas, baby."

Dean turns around in Roman's lap to kiss his chest, right where the birds sit underneath his soft pyjamas. "Merry Christmas, my love."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Hope everyone likes it!


End file.
